


Inspiration

by yeet (phoe)



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Cute, Fluff, M/M, Oneshot, and likes to deny that he based the love interest in his novel on marco, jean can't stop saying cheesy shit, jean has writer's block, marco is cold, they're just Teens In Love(TM)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-05
Updated: 2016-11-05
Packaged: 2018-08-29 06:36:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8479009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoe/pseuds/yeet
Summary: Jean has writer's block, so he goes for an evening walk to the pier with Marco and looks for something that'll inspire him.





	

Most evenings weren’t boring for Jean. Most evenings, he’d be baking or watching the new episode of his favourite TV show, or writing and redrafting the next chapter of his experimental novel. However, this evening wasn’t like most evenings. Despite having quite a bit of cash laying around, Jean didn’t have the right ingredients for his favourite chocolate and orange gateau. He’d already binged Stranger Things from start to finish in the span of one weekend (plus an extra hour after school on Monday - he had to find out what happened to Eleven) and he didn’t feel prepared to have himself hold back manly tears over any more fictional characters for the time being. He also had writer’s block, to boot. How was he supposed to get the lead character, who he still hadn’t chosen a name for, to confess his love to the beautiful Gracie? Would he take her on a date? To where? Why had he chosen to construct a cheesy romance novel in the first place, if he was so awful at the subject of love in real life? Unnamed Main Character didn’t stumble over words like Jean did. Unnamed Main Character didn’t try to act cool only for it to fall flat in the presence of people he cared for. **  
**

In fact, the only think Jean could find in common with his main character was that they both found Gracie to be quite beautiful. Gracie was quiet and timid, and kind, and sweet. Gracie had soft chestnut hair and deep beige skin, scattered with marks and freckles and spots and scars. There was a time when Jean used to think of all of those things as blemishes, things that should’ve been erased. Of course that did wonders for his own self esteem, when his own marks and freckles and spots and scars wouldn’t wash away in the shower like he’d subtly hoped for. Gracie liked to wear cute dresses that complimented her slim figure, whilst still appearing modest. To Jean, and to Unnamed Main Character, Gracie was the dream girl. Gracie was the end all and be all. Perhaps, for this reason, the novel the fifteen year old high school student was writing was more of a way for him to cope with unrequited feelings. He’d never dated a person in his life, as much as he yearned for a relationship.

Fuck that, though. True to Jean’s love life, he’d gotten to that moment where it was going to happen. The part where Unnamed Main Character announced his feelings, where Gracie admitted she, too, felt a connection, and the two lived very happily ever after, the end. Something nagged at Jean’s brain, though. That wasn’t very realistic, was it? Love didn’t work the way it was shown in movies. There was rejection and anxiety and tragedy all around when it came to love. The more Jean thought on it, the more he realised how stupid this story was. That was how he’d landed himself in his writer’s block. The ending he’d planned so long ago suddenly didn’t fit. He didn’t know how else he could end it, and now he was stuck.

Perhaps Jean needed a time out. Baking still wasn’t an option, and he couldn’t even remember if he’d paid the Netflix bill, regardless of whether he wanted to watch a new series or not. Maybe fresh air could jolt his brain into action. Who cared if it was six in the evening? Though, he had to admit, it probably wasn’t the wisest idea to go out on his own. The town he lived in looked sweet from a distance - local, family run businesses, elderly people and children crossing the road every weekday afternoon and a promenade with fairy lights along the railings giving a perfect view of the sea - but Jean was upper class, and it showed. Whether it was his clothes or his phone or his twenty five dollar haircut, people just seemed to _know_ that he had money. When he started to worry about his safety, who better to call than his best friend?

Marco arrived about twenty minutes after Jean had put the phone down. There’d been a very tentative rap on the front door - why not use the doorbell? - and Jean had opened the mahogany slab of wood to see the boy, in all his glory. He looked the exact opposite to Jean, wearing a pastel blue and white striped shirt with a pair of lemon yellow shorts, which complimented his tan, freckle-ridden skin whilst contrasting against Jean’s muddy flannel and pale complexion. Not to mention, Marco was tall and gangly, his bones prominent on his skin, whilst Jean was shorter and, to his own dismay, a tad on the chubby side - Marco had once disgraced him with the appalling nickname of ‘Grunge Aesthetic Teddy Bear’. Never again.

“What do you wanna do?” Marco was always so upbeat and friendly. Jean couldn’t imagine him without a smile - the expression of happiness seemed to fit him like a glove. His mouth went just the tiniest bit lop-sided when he grinned and he only had one dimple, but it only added to the charm, in Jean’s humble opinion. Marco’s cheerfulness was as calming as a sunset - for example, the pink and auburn sky that was shining down right at that moment, obscured by the occasional lilac cloud.  

“Maybe just go for a walk. Dunno- what do you reckon? I have cash, by the way. We could stop for a drink.” Jean suggested, shoving his supple hands into the pockets of his distressed, designer jeans.

“Isn’t it a little late?” Marco had raised a thin eyebrow, to Jean’s mild concern. He could’ve sworn he mentioned wanting to go out that night, while they were on the phone.

“Isn’t that part of the fun?”  Smooth comeback, Jean. Brilliant. No wonder he’d taken a liking to the art of writing, he’d become the utmost master of cheesy one liners. He would’ve slapped himself if it weren’t for his best friend standing one metre before him.

“Well, I guess…” Marco shrugged. He still hadn’t lost his happy demeanour, which was reassuring. Jean lazily slung an arm around the other’s gaunt shoulders, and they started walking - of course, Jean locked the door behind him first. He had to un-sling his arm in order to do so, and he suddenly looked (and felt) a lot less suave than he appreciated.

Jean’s house wasn’t directly by town - it was a few streets away, so the two teenage boys ended up walking for a good half an hour, trudging through alleyways and parks and taking detours, before they finally got anywhere with a shop sign. The walk itself was nice, though. However chilly, the slowly darkening sky, ambient bird chirps and the rustling of golden and auburn leaves on the ground made the atmosphere blossom into something much nicer than a simple evening in October. It was refreshing and enjoyable, and calm, and peaceful, and _inspiring_. Perhaps Unnamed Main Character could take Gracie for a walk through the suburbs. They could hold hands and- would they talk, or just listen to the echoes of nature? Either way, it would be romantic as fuck. Perfect.

“Hey, Jean- Watch out!”

Jean thought he might’ve walked into the road without looking, and a car was heading straight towards him. A look of sheer terror passed across his thin face, and he leapt out of the way.

A huge wave of orange and green washed over him and, for a moment, he couldn’t surface.

Marco had scooped up a pile of leaves and thrown them right in his face. It took Jean a few seconds to comprehend quite what had just happened, but it eventually came to him. Once he’d brushed the flora from his body, he saw that Marco had replaced with blissful smile with a cheeky grin. He was giggling, one hand covering his mouth, the other reaching towards Jean’s hand.

“Oh my _gosh,_ Jean- you looked totally spooked.” He snorted, struggling to keep his eyes open from how much he was laughing.

“Are you- holy fuck, Marco.” Jean exclaimed in response, hurling his own mound of leaves in the tall boy’s face. He wasn’t really mad at him, but he decided to pretend.

“You love me, really.”

Yeah, he did.

The two had taken eachother’s hands again once they made it through town and down to the pier. It was darker now, fairy lights and street lamps illuminating the promenade. It was rather empty, maybe the occasional person walking their dog breaking the stillness. Jean and Marco were giddy - it was just them, the sea and the sunset. This would be a nice place for Unnamed Main Character to take Gracie for a walk. It seemed so romantic and quiet down here - no wonder it was a hotspot on valentine’s day.

“Let’s go down to the beach.” Jean was practically dancing, turning on his heel to face Marco whilst walking backwards.

“It’s cold, Jean.”

“We’re not going in the water.” He’d let go of Marco’s hand at this point, and he jogged to the concrete steps beside the pier. He didn’t bother walking down like any regular person - he rather glided down the first few, before leaping into the sand once he was a metre above. He nearly fell backwards, but he was okay.

“Gosh, you’re such a show-off.” Marco was quiet, but with only the waves brushing over the sand making any kind of noise, he could be heard without a fault.

“I know, right?” Jean scoured the beach, looking for anything that wasn’t plain sand. There was seaweed and litter, and after a small while he found what he’d been looking for . The perfect rock.

It was about the size of Jean’s fist. The edges weren’t too jagged, and it had a reasonable shine.

“What’s that for?” Marco had his arms wrapped around himself. Maybe he was right - he did look freezing. A hint of sympathy glossed Jean’s hazel eyes. He couldn’t just leave him like that, could he?

“Hang on, just…” He put the rock back down. It’d have to wait. He felt a little like a fool for pointing at it and telling it to ‘stay’, as if it could hear him - but he didn’t want to lose such a specimen. Jean slipped off his dirt-coloured flannel shirt, leaving a black t-shirt underneath. He didn’t usually like to wear less than two layers on his torso - yes, he was insecure. Still, it was only Marco who could see. He hated the softness of his arms and the pudge on his chest and abdomen - overshirts and hoodies and sweaters covered those things, made him feel a little better about the way he looked. Not like he’d be telling anyone about those feelings any time soon, though.

“Looks shit with the rest of your outfit, but… I warmed it up for you, I guess.” Jean gently hooked the soft, thin fabric over Marco’s shoulders. Feeling the chill on his bare skin, Jean picked the rock back up.

“You ever wanna let off some steam?” Jean balanced the rock on the tip of his fingers (before having to grab it with his free hand after discovering it was too heavy).

“I usually just write it all down.” Marco stared at the rock with an arc in his eyebrow that showed confusion.

“Tell me something that pisses you off.” Jean continued.

“Like what?”

“Anything. Like- I can’t figure out how I’m gonna finish off my shitty novel. I keep thinking ‘no, it’s not realistic. It’s not good. It’s not right’. It’s making me wanna just scrap the whole thing. This rock is gonna be that. This rock is the writer’s block and the insecurity and the people telling me my writing’s shit.” It was true that Jean was incredibly bitter about his inability to finally put Unnamed Main Character and Gracie into a stable relationship. Even though his evening had been nice so far, it was still dwelling on his mind.

Jean turned to face the sea, and stepped closer to the tide.

He raised his arm and swung.

Plop.

There it went, splashing into the water like a cannonball. There was an air of satisfaction that came with throwing objects into a watery void.

“Goodbye to all the shit stopping me.” He called out. Jean was the immature kind of teenager who flipped anything and everything off, so he did that with both his middle fingers.

“You try it.”

Marco peered around at the soft, grey sand. He soon found his own little pebble - smaller and softer than Jean’s, yet still heavy enough to do the job.

He threw it into the water without a word. Jean didn’t mind. He couldn’t make him tell, could he?

“Maybe it’ll work out.” Marco mouthed. Jean wasn’t good at reading lips. “Can we go back now? I’m chilled through.”

Jean decided it would be best if they did. Marco’s skin was starting to look a little red now, from the coolness around the two. Would it be bad if he tried to help him warm up? Wrapping an arm around the brunette’s waist couldn’t have been that bad of an idea, right? Before Jean could consider where it’d land on the ‘possibly not straight’ scale, his arm had already slipped around Marco’s frail torso, and they were walking down the promenade again.

“You’re warm.” Marco commented, with one of those smiles again. The smiles Jean liked to look at. “Your flannel smells like pizza.”

Fuck. Ruin the mood, why don’t you?

“And you smell like fairy dust and cupcakes. What have you got against pizza, huh?”

“Nothing! Nothing- Pizza reminds me of you.”

“That’s not… Is that supposed to be romantic, or some shit?”

“You like pizza. I like pizza. You had your last birthday party at Pizza Hut. So, yes, pizza reminds me of you.”

“Could’ve said something a little more, I dunno… flowy. Like- my aftershave, I don’t know.”

“You use pizza aftershave.”

“That’s a lie and you know it.”

“Oh, really, Jean?” That playful smirk was back on Marco’s plush lips. Jean shoved him, but only lightly. Marco was laughing like a hyena, now.

“Shush-”

“You can’t deny it, Jean. Pizza boy.”

Now Jean was laughing as well, and Marco slung his own arm over Jean’s shoulder. How was it that he was so much more slick with his movements than Jean? He was supposed to be the awkward one!

“I bet you love the taste of pizza, though, don’t you?” Jean questioned, in between wheezes of his own chuckling.

“I dunno, I haven’t had any in a while.”

Something wet brushed against Jean’s cheek for a moment. He stopped laughing. He stopped walking.

“Marco…” He couldn’t control his voice. He’d been forced to whisper by his own subconscious. What was this? Did Jean imagine the soft lips pressing to his face? Was he so happy and giddy being around Marco that it had spiralled into one big fantasy he never knew he’d dreamed? Jean could feel his heart rate rising, his breathing becoming heavier. This had not been on the agenda for tonight.

“What is it, Jean?”

“You just-”

“I… Damn, I’m sorry-”

“No, no- it’s.. Fine.”

Jean and Marco were facing eachother. Jean had to look up by the smallest raised angle, while Marco looked back down. Marco’s slender fingers grasped and struggled to wrap around Jean’s, and neither of them seemed to be able to keep eye contact.

“Listen, forgive me for this really fucking cheesy thing I’m about to say, but do you wanna get some more pizza?”

“That was awful.”

“I know- I couldn’t resist it.”

“You’re so embarrassing, Jean. I love you.”

Those were the words Jean had needed to hear.

That was it.

That was all he required.

When Jean leaned inwards, letting his lips caress Marco’s, he was glad to find that the other didn’t pull away. The two teens stopped holding hands, Jean moving his to the back of Marco’s head, Marco sliding his own to rest on Jean’s back. It wasn’t a passionate kiss. It was awkward and clumsy, and interrupted by giggles from either side. It ended when Marco pressed his forehead against Jean’s, and they bumped noses, and they burst out laughing, and they were finally satisfied.

Jean had his inspiration, now. He knew how Unnamed Main Character and Gracie would finally admit that they were in utmost adoration of eachother. All he needed was for the beautiful person with the brown hair and the freckles to tell the other, ‘I love you.’

**Author's Note:**

> there isn't enough pastel!marco and chubby!jean stuff on this damn website. hope you like it. i also posted this to my art and writing blog, phomarciam.tumblr.com. Please leave comments and kudos if you like it!


End file.
